


Light Fingers

by rusting_roses



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:12:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusting_roses/pseuds/rusting_roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Light fighters were the difference were the difference between the making and breaking of confidence man and pickpocket alike. Ask any thief in question. They will be more than willing to expound on the matter of how delicate a touch was needed to master the art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Fingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollow_echos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollow_echos/gifts).



Booster. Stickup Man. Footpad. Safecracker.

Whatever you called them, a thief was still a thief—and they were generally known as having light fingers, no matter what kind of thief they were. Light fighters were the difference were the difference between the making and breaking of confidence men and pickpockets alike. Ask any thief. They will be more than willing to expound on the matter of how delicate a touch was needed to master the art of making what was once someone else's your own.

Parker was no different, of course, and while sometimes it amused Eliot to no end, other times it left him vaguely unsettled and fearing for his life—in so far as he could fear Parker, who was less German shepherd and more hyperactive Chihuahua.

This was one of the latter moments.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Eliot awoke because his head didn't feel quite right. Unlike most people, there was no moment of hazy quiet in between waking and sleeping: Eliot was either one of the other, practiced at being instantly, completely awake. It had saved his life more than once, after all, and even after months of living with Parker, years of working with the rest of the team, that hadn't changed in the least, and Eliot never planned to let it change.

So it was beyond unsettling, _absurdly_ unsettling, really, when Eliot woke up, touched his head and felt—he felt—

Braids?

Yes. Braids, a half dozen or so spanning his entire head of hair, complete with bows that were a disgustingly lurid pink based on his assessment as he tugged one in front of his face. Eliot glanced over on the other side of the bed. Parker was gone.

Immediately scowling, he rose and stalked to the bathroom, where he inspected the full extent of the damage. After all, he absolutely didn't put it past Parker to have managed to dye his hair, or something equally awful, while he was asleep, though damned if Eliot knew how she'd even managed this much. He was a reasonably light sleeper, through force of habit, and though he was comfortable enough with Parker and the protections they'd both put into place to sleep a little more deeply, to properly relax, there was a huge difference between relaxing and, evidently being unconscious enough that Parker could do _this_.

Despite his fears, the worst that Parker had done was the braids and the bows—but the braids themselves, complete with ribbons, was bad enough. Somehow, and Eliot was rather confused as to how, she'd woven the ends of the ribbons back into the braids. He stared at himself, horrified, and shouted, "Parker!" at the top of his lungs. He was going to kill her for this.

"You called?" Parker asked impishly from the doorway, and the second Eliot turned, she snapped a picture of his scowling face, laughing. Dancing lightly on her feet, she dodged his attempt to grab her. Eliot couldn't help but grudgingly admire the fact that she was using the very training he'd given her against him, and ran out of their bedroom.

Eliot was hot on her heels, of course, and Parker led him on a merry chase through the apartment. If he'd wanted, he could have taken her down easily, but given that he didn't actually want to cause any permanent damage to Parker, just rattle her brains a little, he was forced to limit his options considerably. "I'm going to throw you out the window!" he threatened all the same, as she laughed madly and stayed on the other side of the counter. The brightness of her eyes, a clear, wild blue, should have been entrancing under any other circumstances, but Eliot scowled even more fiercely at Parker in retribution.

"Oh no," Parker replied dryly, but her grin was still wide. "Whatever am I to do? It's as though I don't have a fear of heights, or won't be able to catch myself on the way down." She waggled a finger at him. "You'll have to come up with something better than that."

Eliot narrowed his eyes at the challenge. "You're going to regret that," he murmured savagely. "I am going to _tickle you until you pee_."

Letting out a squawk of protest at the new and considerably more intimidating threat, Parker darted off again, and this time Eliot was in hot pursuit with the intention of bringing her down at all costs. As much as Eliot's anger had almost completely disappeared, he couldn't let this go without answer; just as he couldn't do that, Parker couldn't give up without at least an attempt to escape.

Parker was getting quicker, however, and she'd made it down almost an entire flight of stairs before Eliot caught up with her, one of his legs sweeping both of hers out from under her. She tried to turn it into a proper roll, and another flare of pride rose in Eliot's chest at the sign that her training had taken hold, but he hadn't quite taught her _everything_ he knew, and he stopped her before she could fall to the floor, whisking her into his arms. With a shriek, Parker was thrown over Eliot's shoulder, protesting at top volume the entire time as she was hauled back upstairs.

"Heathen! Kraken! Rum!" Parker shouted at him, twisting in his arms. Eliot was too practiced to let her go, though, and they both knew it.

"Now I know for sure we've let you watch Pirates of the Caribbean far too often," Eliot muttered under his breath, narrowly dodging an elbow and grabbing Parker more firmly. Once they were back at the apartment, he kicked open their door, managed to disable their primary alarm system with one hand so to keep her restrained with the other, and marched back to their bedroom. He dumped Parker back on the bed, all without allowing her to squirm free.

All with braids and ribbons in his hair too, but Eliot rather thought that was of secondary importance as Parker turned an innocent smile on him. "Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?" Parker asked, and her favorite, impish grin, the one that dimpled her cheeks in a way that left Eliot feeling warm, was back. "I'm not thinking about anything."

"Well, we're both on agreement on that, at least," Eliot growled, rolling his eyes. Keeping an eye on Parker, he started to try and wrangle the braids and ribbons into some sort of order that would allow him to remove them. He wasn't particularly successful, as evidenced by Parker's unrepentant giggles, and finally he said, "Alright. No tickling you until you pee if you get these out of my hair now. And destroy all photographic evidence of this ever occurring." Eliot guessed that he probably had about a fifty-fifty chance of the second happening, whatever Parker agreed to.

"Done," she said instantly, perking up immediately now that the threat of tickling was now gone. "Come here, I'll let them out." Eliot might be able to tie several dozen knots, but he'd never encountered something like this, and he was more than willing to let Parker's deft, slim fingers make fast work of the atrocious hairstyle she'd forced him into.

With all the gentleness Eliot could have hoped for, Parker knelt behind him, ribbons seemingly coming undone at the barest touch. From there, it was easy for her to finger comb his locks into some sort of order. When she'd finished, she set the ribbons aside, and ran her fingers through his hair a few more times. "You have nice hair," she murmured softly, clearly enjoying being able to play with it.

"Is that why you braided it, and while I was asleep?" Eliot asked, as much genuinely curious as faintly irritated, still. He didn't like being made fun of, and he couldn't shake the sense that Parker was mocking him, somehow. "Because you wanted to play with it?"

"A little," Parker agreed. "You wouldn't let me play with it otherwise." Eliot could just catch her shrug out of the corner of his eye. "But mostly it was for practice."

"Practice?" Eliot asked, when it was clear that she wasn't going to continue. Talking about important things with Parker was rather like pulling teeth; she didn't want to reveal too many secrets, even now. While Eliot could understand that, he figured that after this escapade he had the right to know.

"Yeah. Little tricks that I was taught, to keep my skills sharp. You have to have a light touch to be a thief, you know. So I challenged myself, to see if I could do your entire head without you waking up. I've managed a few braids, but nothing like that." Caught between pride at Parker's accomplishment, and a resounding desire to roll his eyes and make good on his threat to tickle her until she peed, Eliot let out a rough sigh. "Hey!" Parker complained. "You know I have to do _something_ to keep myself busy! And you're so fast, and so easy to wake up, that of course I wasn't going to do it to anyone else!"

Something of a queer warmth grew in Eliot's chest. "Why?"

"Hardison sleeps like a rock, and is way too easy. He's no fun!" Parker complained. "And then there's Nate, he's boring when he's passed out on the couch. Besides, if he catches me he might. You know. Make me talk to people." She shuddered comically. "Sophie just gives me this _look_. Therefore, you! Besides, you're the hardest of all, and that makes you the best practice, which makes me the best thief! I can trust you to be hard to trick. See, think of it as helping me," Parker pointed out sagely, then added, "Plus, you live here, which means I don't have to go outside when it's pouring rain for anything other than donuts." She paused. "Chocolate donuts with chocolate frosting. With rainbow sprinkles."

What Eliot said was, "Because what, chocolate sprinkles would be too much?" but what he was thinking was more along the lines of, _She trusts me_. Parker did not trust easily; none of them did, not for anything, and Eliot knew it was only natural. Things were different now, of course, after so many years together, but they all had their secrets and their quirks and their foibles, and not a single one of them was good enough to stand on their own, not without a little help. That Parker trusted Eliot to help, in however strange and, well, Parker-ish was...good.

It left Eliot with a crippling adoration in his chest, and he had to clear his throat before he could speak. Parker's hands were still oh-so gentle in his hair, soothing strokes that took Eliot by surprise with how much they warmed him through.

"Because otherwise everything on the donut is brown, and brown is boring, of course," Parker corrected. "I like colors. So, rainbow sprinkles."

"Idiot," Eliot murmured, about this, about everything, and he drew her in for a quick hug and a kiss on the corner of her mouth. They lingered like that for just a moment, everything safe and quiet and whole.

"No I'm not," Parker retorted, breaking the moment. "I'm the smartest, best thief ever. So there." With this conclusion, she stuck out her tongue. Eliot went to grab for it, but Parker poked him instead and then scooted back up on the bed, flopping back on the pillows. Eliot jerked at the touch, and then scowled at Parker. About to comment, Parker spoke before Eliot got the chance to. "So, can I do it?"

Sidetracked, Eliot asked, "Do what?" Very rarely was he on the receiving end of one of Parker's "Are you really this stupid?" looks, and he'd forgotten how much he disliked it. "None of your sass. Do what?" Eliot repeated, more strongly.

"Braid your hair while you're sleeping, of course!" Parker said like it ought to be obvious. "What else?"

"Why?" Eliot demanded.

"Practice," Parker sing-songed, rolling her eyes in an excellent imitation of Eliot. "What, you think because I did it once, that's it? I bought a book on how to make different types of braids, even! I was going to do a French braid, and put in a blue ribbon! Blue looks good on you, after all."

Caught between laughing and wanting to shake his head at Parker, Eliot gave into the inevitable. "Yes, of course," he agreed before he could think the better of it. Oh, he'd regret this, especially if Parker got any more pictures, but the brilliant smile that lit up Parker's face was more than worth it.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" she squealed, diving into his lap and hugging him hard enough to make his ribs protest before Parker was on her feet, dragging Eliot behind her. "Now come on! I want to show you all the new colors of ribbon I got!"

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fic written for my dear friend hollow_echoes for our Christmas/New Years exchange. It took a lot of debate and struggle, but I hope you're pleased with how this turned out. Enjoy!


End file.
